


the family strider: side a

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Shota, possibly maybe here as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the strider family has always been listed and categorized as strange and mildly odd. these are stories of how they live, act, and sometimes love.</p><p>side a: contains the alpha striders, dave and dirk, playing the incest limbo of confusion while dave tries to manage a multimillion dollar business and dirk uses his smarts for unsmart choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hairstyles

**Author's Note:**

> augh
> 
> thats all i can say about this
> 
> instant regrets

He’s always been a difficult kid.

Rose blames it on the lack of time you spend with him, you blame it on the fact you’re sure he’s got some kind of deep agenda to keep you on your toes and angry (which he usually succeeds at). He’s been expelled from all of the local private schools for varying reasons, though the most memorable one would probably be where he took a shit on the principal’s desk after being lectured on respecting his elders, and you don’t even try enlisting him in regular schools, so you let him take classes online, where he always excels. You think it’s because he’s cheating.

It’s a Monday morning, and you’ve already received five texts from your secretary to get your ass to the office already, but you think you have enough time to squeeze in a cup of coffee. This instant maker doesn’t take too long, maybe five minutes tops, and five more minutes on top of the original twenty it take to get to the office could be blamed on traffic.

Making your way out of your bedroom with your tie slung around your neck, you climb down the entirely too long staircase that you designed to be funny and reference your first hit comic series, but was actually a deathtrap for your own health, and head into the kitchen, only to be stopped in your tracks.

It’s already unusual enough for Dirk to be up before ten, but the fact that he’s made your coffee and a small breakfast is even more out of character. You start to head out, but of course he decides to turn around as you do. “Finally. Shit was gettin’ cold.”

“...is it poisoned?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes, which doesn’t answer your question at all, but you sit down at the table as he brings you a plate and your coffee, then sits across from you, his hands locked together resting on the table. Cautiously, you take a bite, and it’s good, and you don’t feel sick or anywhat the hell is going on with Dirk’s hair.

His eyes catch your stare and he grins at you while you remember that you didn’t remember to grab your shades and still stare in awe at the mess that is your brother’s hair, clipped and pins in a horrendous mishmash all on his head, not even mentioning the two tiny pigtails in the back of his head. He almost looks like that little girl from that old Disney movie, except she’s actually adorable and your brother is not.

“Wh--”

“Goin’ out with Roxy,” He says it like it’s supposed to explain everything, but it only makes you more confused. “There’s this new store that just opened that sells all these different types of obscure an--”

“Stop.” You don’t need to here the rest of the sentence to know where it’s headed. “How much?”

He taps his finger on his chin. “350. 400 and I’ll take all of it out of my head.”

“375 and you’ll attempt to leave looking like a normal child.”

“385 and I’ll try not to disgrace the Strider family name.”

Hesitantly, you pull out your wallet and he starts unclipping the ungodly mess from his head. Where he even got the damn things, you don’t know or care to know, you just never want to see them again. You should’ve guess he wanted money from the sight of an actual breakfast, let alone the hair clips.

You slide him the money and he leans to kiss your nose and you swat him away, standing up and telling him you’d be home later than usual while he ignores you and ties your tie horribly wrong but you don’t have the heart to tell him that so you just move to kiss his forehead and he leans up to brush his lips on yours and as you walk out the door you swear you can hear him cackling.

Yeah, you’re sure he’s got something up his sleeves for you.


	2. truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave reflects while dirk sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this is significantly better
> 
> but lacking dialouge 
> 
> i can't win with myself

You know he’s old to still be sleeping in your bed, but you can never tell him no.

When it doesn’t have gunk in it, his hair looks more like yours, and you know he hates it but you think it’s kind of cute that way, and it’s better on your fingers since you can run them through better this way as opposed to getting a dirty look when you try to after he’s wasted thirty minutes doing it the way he wants. His breathing is slow and calm, and if you looked at him long enough, you’d swear there was a trace of a genuine smile.

His body is too close to yours, too close for a ten year old to be on a man sixteen years older than him, too close for two brothers to be laying together while one sleeps and the other watches. You’ve always had trouble sleeping for as long as you can remember, and it hasn’t gotten any better with Dirk squirming every two seconds in the bed. Though his body is warm and comforting to you in some strange way, and it makes your insides twist up in ways you should be feeling for someone female your own age.

He knows it too, he reads you like book and he shows you exactly what you can’t have. He’s almost like a leech, sucking away every bit of dignity and strength you have as the days go on. Sometimes it’s something as minor as the way he walks (little boys shouldn’t sashay, you tell him, and he’ll just grin at you) and then sometimes he’ll sneak in while you’re jacking off to some fake tit bimbo on the computer screen and just watch until you catch him and threaten to choke him. Everything is a game to him, and somehow you know it’s your fault.

You like it better when it’s like this, when he’s quiet and you don’t have to hear some snarky version of ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer’ or have him making the most obscene gestures while you’re trying to talk business on the phone. To you, it’s more peaceful, and less stressful by a great deal. If it wasn’t illegal to duct tape kids’ mouths whenever you do take him places, you would probably have a lot less problems, now that you think about it.

The alarm goes off, and his amber eyes blink open, searching around the still dark room until they find yours, and he clings, wrapping his arms around your neck so tight you barely have enough room to breathe. “M’rn’...”

“Let go, I need to start getting ready.” Naptime is over, and if you want to push the book and get done with the script then you’d be out at the office until midnight. Working at home isn’t an option anymore.

You try to pry him off but he stays latched, and you give up with a sigh as he grins into your collarbone before you sit up and carry him to his own room. It’s just another day in the Strider house and you start your routine of getting him ready before yourself, treating him as if he’s some prince and you’re his lowly servant. Something always tells you that you could try and put up a fight, but you can’t do anything but give him what he wants.

The housemaid makes lunch, grilled cheese and soup, and when you see Dirk cringe you pinch his arm and tell him he better eat every last bit of it. He whines and rubs his arm but doesn’t protest, though it’s short lived as he ‘accidentally’ bumps the plate off the table. Lucky for him, Mariella has extras just for him. The look on his face is almost priceless.

The second alarm beeps and you scarf down the last bit of your food before you hop up, telling Mariella to make sure to call Dirk’s school and tell them he was sick, and that if his fever goes back up to just give him more of the medicine the doctor gave him. She nods and hands you your coat and you kiss her cheek and you’re almost out the door before you hear someone clear their throat.

“You didn’t give _me_ a kiss goodbye.”

With a groan, you turn around. “Aren’t you a little old for a kiss goodbye?”

“Aren’t you a little old to look like Justin Bieber?”

You slam the door behind you and you can hear his laughter all the way to your car. The truth hurts, and no one knows it better than you, who’s been getting the same comment ever since ‘Baby’ started playing on the radio.

It hurts and no one understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also followin/trackin the family strider tag on tumblr could be helpful so you won't miss updates or anything yeah bye


End file.
